Sent to be Called
by Onyx Dragon
Summary: Dragon alwyas knew there was something wrong with the world - but what willhappen when her eyes finally open to the truth that only the crew of the Nebuchadnezzar can show her?
1. Summoned!

Chapter One: Summoned!  
  
I was sitting at home, detached from the world, searching for the password to C.I.A. Agent Jonathan Marx. This was nothing of late. I sat at my computer day-in and day-out searching for something I could not explain. I had conformed to a hacker to do precisely that, search. So, I spent all waking hours hovering over a shoddy screen and squalid keyboard. Granted my area was anything but immaculate, with various articles of everything strewn in any direction possible, it did suffice. Reaching my arm around through a pile of whatever was next to me, I found what I was looking for-my Advil bottle. The headaches I acquired during these long, sleepless nights sometimes got to me, thus I had every type of pain reliever dispersed around my cluttered mahogany desktop. By the time I looked up for longer than a second to blink, it was somewhere in the vicinity of 3:00 a.m. I had no true point of reference though, on account of my long broken clock hanging -dangling- on the wall lateral of me, but it must have been the only honest timepiece I owned. Yet still, I held no further desire nor need to fix it.   
After scouring numerous files to the point of delirium, I finally stumbled upon a tidbit of information that might actually help in my previously vain hunt. I was about to download the files, when my screen forthwith seemed to shut down. At this, rage mewed up inside of me and I could barely withhold it. My finger slammed down multiple times upon the esc key, and when that did not succeed I pulverized the Ctrl Alt Del keys several times over. Still nothing appeared to be going on, yet my computer remained active. This bewildered me beyond words. It must have been an up and coming black out system the government had designed. Suddenly, something appeared on the faded monitor. It seemed as though my hard drive had somehow fallen folly to a fool's girlish pranks! I sat, quite agitated, as the letters appeared one after another.   
The matrix has you, Dragon  
I read the message and thought I was definitely hallucinating. I tried again to clear my screen. Then, in spite of fiery emotion ablaze inside my core, I continued to watch as the mysterious letters disseminated across the screen.   
pick up the phone…  
I was just about flung into shock when the phone buzzed in its holder. What kind of sick escapade was this? I pondered. Fear and flames welled up inside my stomach as I reached numbly for the phone. If this was some type of trace system of the government's I had surely blown it for the final time.  
"Who is this?" I was barely able to enunciate as I supported the phone with quivering hands.  
"You know who this is," a commanding voice retuned.  
"Neo?" I uttered in full disbelief, my hands only quivering most violently.  
"Yes. I need to be brief; this line is bugged."  
"Whe…when can I meet you?"   
"Soon. But right now, you must do exactly as I tell you. Can you do that?"  
"Yes, of course. But…"  
"Go down stairs!" Neo abruptly cut off my sentence mid-thought. "Box 396."  
"But that…" I was about to counteract his command before, yet once again, I was cut off.  
"Do it now!"  
This sudden assertiveness of a situation that confused me beyond belief was frightening to say the least. I quickly jammed the ancient headset back into the cream colored cradle where it rested on usual occasions. As I was walking toward my apartment door, I froze within my steps. What am I doing? I could go to jail if I'm caught! I argued against Neo's demand inside my still twirling mind. I knew it was completely crazy, yet something - that same something, which drew me to my computer's call every waking moment - forced me to continue on. I rationalized this action with any reasonable thought I could fathom at that moment. Neo should know what he's doing. After all, I am just a mere pawn in the hands of my authorities anyways. That sounded half-reasonable enough to allow me to follow that strange lull of my mind to the end of my apartment room. Once I had made it thus far, it seemed that going to the end hall elevator was almost inevitable.   
Stepping outside my scattered room into the hall was nothing of an upgrade. This place was definitely anything but first-class, yet it was all my rare income could afford, living alone in the big city. As I entered the rickety old elevator I pushed the first floor button. The doors almost simultaneously closed and the metallic box I was now stuck in began to descend down the shaft, playing the same cheesy, ear-piercing music the entire time. While I stood there, generally in the corner, my skin began to crawl and chills ran up my spine. It was that odd feeling again. From time to time, I would feel that I was being watched - that someone or something was interpreting my entire being. I never understood quite where those feelings came from, but I can sure assert the fact that they were real as my flesh.   
Finally, after agonizing moments had passed, I reached the main level and the doors pried themselves open. I then moved across the floor to face rows of mailing boxes. Every number from 1-1000 was accounted for in the countless boxes of steel. As I approached and glared at the dreaded Box 396, I began to doubt what I was planning on executing. Of all the boxes, would it have been such a horrible thing to choose perhaps the box that belonged to me? I began to consider, in all skepticism. Then shaking my head with a shudder and deep breath, I moved farther away from the ominous postage rows.   
I shifted swiftly toward the elevator doors and practically smashed in the up button. After waiting a pulverizing amount of uncounted minutes, the doors wrenched open and I stumbled weakly inside. After hammering the fourth floor button for what must have been an eternity, the doors surprisingly sealed shut. Once back on my original level of the complex, I sped to the door of my run-down apartment. I knew something along the lines of foul play had to be going on around this place, but I still had no idea as to what was going on.  
I approached the door to my so-called-apartment and tried to door it. To my fair dismay the knob would not budge an inch. It was locked, secured tightly from the inside where I had, in my haste, forgotten to turn the lock. My rage swelled yet again and in the back of my throat I could feel the acid rising from the knots turning over and over within my churning stomach. Why this was all happening to me, and why today I could not tell even myself, but it sure as the sun was going to rise, was happening. Out of my passionate ire came aggressive adrenaline, which moved me to kick the door that now blockaded me from my house. When I did this, the latch of the doorway splintered and what was left of my door swung oddly into the entry of my home.   
As I sloppily fell into my apartment, I tripped over a pile of papers. Atop these papers, which now lay scattered in divergent areas on my sleazy tan carpet, was a tax return form. As I looked at it, I realized just how ill I was of this place. I hated the routine-spontaneity, what seemed to me like organized-disorder, of the so-called world. There was something about it - something false that I could no longer lead myself to believe in anymore. I had felt like a rat, trapped in a whirlwind maze - always being watched, hunted. Day after day, night after night I was being analyzed - controlled by an invisible force. I had to discover what that force, which had such power over me was, and this was my only hope.  
I moved away from the papers on the floor and nearer the door. As I was about to exeunt from my living room, I caught a glimpse of my kitchen knives. That was it! I needed something to pry the mailbox open with. I searched around madly till I recalled the Swiss Army Knife I always had available in the kitchen drawer. I yanked the drawer open and, rummaging through several junky items until I finally came across the knife. Then grabbing my cell phone I had thrown on my lazy chair the night before, I headed down the hall with a new sense of vigor pumping through my every vein. There was no possible way that I was going to live with the regret of never knowing the truth.   
Glancing down to the far end of the hallway I quickly resolved that the hour-consuming elevator was a loathsome idea. Thus, I turned to my left sharply and faced the fire escape exit. It was my fastest trail back down to the postboxes, and I surely wanted this over with as soon as I could salvage the courage to accomplish it. As I took merely a single step out unto the rusty stairs, a white powder fell all about my body. I had not even considered the horrid cold just moments ago. But, still figuring this was a superior idea to the elevator I drug myself on. Ultimately, between the freezing cold and my screaming doubts, I made it to face down Box 396 yet one more time in this eventful evening.   
As I began to push open the worthless old door, I was slapped with the sensation of blazing warmth upon my skin: heavenly bliss. Shaking vigorously now, I managed to maneuver my body over toward the rows of steel. I looked conformingly at box 396 and cringed. This was my final chance to alter the rest of my destiny. I knew the actions I was about to perform were not exactly the ones I planned upon doing, nor wanted to do in any way, but I also knew this was the only right thing I could have done. Thus, screaming at my conscience to shut the frell, I reached into the back pocket of my faded blue jeans. There was where I had stuffed my Swiss Army knife, which I was now in dire need of. I looked about cautiously for a moment, and then reached for the lock of the abominable box. I began to scrape my knife about in the minute keyhole and in about 45 seconds flat, I had avenged my fate - I had opened the tiny metal door to reveal a dark, cool void. I blindly reached my hand into this void, and feeling icy metal, I pulled it out. In my hand lay a top-of-the-line shining ebony 8mm, 3-round track precision-silencer Tykanian pistol. Staring at this masterpiece in somewhat of awe, I decided it would be best to shove the gun into my deep front pocket. This I did with no further hesitation, realizing of course this gun was not just illegal in all parts of the world, but more deadly than a madman with a hundred machine guns.   
The second I closed the door to box 396, the cell phone clipped loosely to my bedraggled belt began to buzz - the signal of an incoming call. I reached, with great trepidation, to push the green, flashing receive button. Trembling, I began to make an attempt of steadying quivering vocal cords.  
"What do you want?" I asked, voice weak and full of anxiety.  
"Do you want to know what I need to tell you?" the man on the line responded coolly.  
"Do you expect me to say no?" I answered him with a question, my voice stabilizing a bit now.  
"I was hoping you would say that," he confirmed. "You must leave," he continued, sounding pressed.  
"Why?" I bolted out.  
"There is no time to answer futile inquires. Meet me in front of Motel 6 in an hour, exactly!" He demanded, and then abruptly hung up.  
I set my phone back against the belt of my pants. It had been a very odd conversation, to say the slightest. Looking about the decaying complex I lived in was rather sickening, so I decided to head for the unreliable elevator. I was in no particular hurry to get anywhere at the moment, so I figured a worthless wait might get some of the nervous energy out of my racked system. Once the disgusting old heap of trash, which its symbolism summed up the entire motif of the place I was forced to call home, arrived with a sick ding I approached it pathetic excuse for doors. I entered its confines and after about 15 minutes - rough estimate - I had finally returned to my original level of the apartment, which adjoined mine. Sauntering slightly down the creaking hall, I arrived at its pathetic door. Swinging it lightly on barely a hinge to the side, I approached my main entrance. I felt a tinge of hunger come over me as I did this, thus I neared the Kitchen counter. Passing by the clock overhead, I thought it would be wise to steal a glance at it: 3:00 a.m. still. I was beginning to think that perhaps I should take it into the shop sometime soon.  
I entered the kitchen with a sort of melancholic attitude. The foods I owned, or could afford for that matter, were useless at this time of the morning. I glanced into my shabby cupboards, for one final attempt, but upon finding nothing but noodles and three month old vegetables I had no further concern about, I suddenly thought the pangs of hunger were a better choice. Once I had come upon such a radical decision against my physical health, I heard yet another ill sounding buzz. The twenty year old, cream phone shook vigorously in its tainted cradle yet again. I glanced - glared - at it, wondering whether to answer the call or rip it from the wall and throw it out my singular busted, blackened window. Choosing that in certain the ladder choice was a foul one, I placed the headset against my ear and lips.   
"What do you want now?" I practically shouted.  
"I guess this is a bad time?" came the sarcastic voice of my employer for Internet hack jobs.   
"Sort of Mack," I paused. How would I be able to form a decent collaboration of excuses for the nights odd turn of events? "But, just never mind." I continued, closing the subject firmly.  
"Did you get my information yet?" he returned, sounding rather agitated.  
"No," I stopped myself. Those odd events were returning to haunt me yet again in this conversation. "My computer was traced and I had to shut down for the night." I excused myself from any further torture of the topic.  
"I see." Mack said, a bit more kindly. "Do you now when you can have it by then?"  
"No I don't." I snapped. "Frelling piece of junk!" I said, more to myself than to Mack.  
"Excuse me, what crawled up your skin?" he counteracted my anger.  
"Nothing. Look, I have to go. This is a really bad time." I spat out as quickly as I could form the words on my lips. Then, I swiftly slammed the phone down; this was no time for his sarcastic remarks and there was no way I was about to answer another one of his probing questions. I figure, I thought aloud, he can cram his C.I.A. info where the sun can't shine! I was fed up with his entire superior attitude and was sick and tired of being bossed around by that pathetic government tycoon. It was getting to the point of absurdity, the point where I was beginning to feel I had no more choices left but to obey him. And that was somewhere I never wanted to end up again; but that is a whole other story, which I won't pause the pain of bringing up. Perhaps at another time, in another circumstance I might have been more equipped to bear its hideous face.   
Pushing all my former thoughts aside, I quickly grabbed the cell phone. Perhaps the correct time would be evident on its screen. This is turning into Hell! I choked out, realizing I had forgotten to charge the battery the night before. The "low bat" signal taunted me by flashing non-stop and eventually I could stand its laugher no longer. Throwing my hands, defeated, over my head I took a deep breath of oxygen as an attempt to calm my frazzled nerves. Then, realizing that being late would be far more costly than early for my appointment, I decided to head out the doorway.  
Remembering the stale coldness of my former excursion, I reached for my black jacket and threw the dying cell phone on the couch. It was futile to carry around a dying piece of electrical equipment anyways. I did one last check of my pocketknife and the pistol as I headed out; a person can never tell when such things will be needed, especially on a night such as that one. I exited the room and walked slowly down the hall. The floor creaked unusually constant as I shifted my body weight from side to side, giving me the odd sensation of somebody following a bit too closely behind me. But, as I suspected, each time I would fling my form around to glance in back of me, there was not a soul in sight but my own. I continued on, the fear increasing with each turn of my head, each dart of my watchful eye. Then, as I glanced back one more time, I noticed the only light that ushered the darkness from this hall was beginning to give out; just a few more moments and it would be gone I assumed.   
I finally reached the elevator shaft, which was no comfort to me. The light behind me flickered monotonously for a second or two more until if finally only gave off an eerie humming noise. The dark hall in which I now stood was merely lit by the dim glow of the dirt-glazed elevator button. That light gave me little to no reassurance as I stood in the faulty hall. I began to think that maybe my imagination was getting carried away as I definitely felt another presence in the halls. Perhaps not another attendant of the complex, but it was by all means, another inhabitant. But, after the elevator did not arrive for what must have been over the usual 15-minute wait, I began to think I might not be creating the images of foul play in my mind after all. At that point I allowed for the paranoia to take over my reactions, thus pulling the powerful gun from my jeans pocket. I cocked the gun nervously and pointed it in the main direction opposite myself. At this point I would have sworn my life upon the fact that I was not the only bodily form contained within the shoddy terminal of my apartment. And, if there was something out there to fear, I was going to be ready to meet its match just as soon as it showed its demon form.   
  
Back aboard the Neb:  
  
"I can't seem to get a lock on her and the calls aren't going through!" Tank declared, his tone dropping to the ground.  
Neo paced anxiously around the Neb's core, avoiding the various computers, screens, and tech equipment strewn around the deck. Everyone who was present could tell he was deeply concerned. Then, sighing a bit, Trinity came forward and placed a hand on Neo's tense shoulder: an act of comfort.  
He made no move to resist, but did not calm himself either. "They'll kill her and you know the will!" he stated, turning agonized eyes on Trinity. Their eyes met for a moment and Trinity knew exactly the dread that he was feeling. She had felt similarly when the agents had captured Neo. But, her pain had hit a little closer to the heart than this. She understood that no words of comfort could help the situation, so she rubbed his back lovingly - gently. Then, abruptly Tank turned to Neo.  
"Neo, I have bad news. Those are agents in there!" he alarmed from the Matrix mainframe computers.  
"I knew it," Neo shook his head painstakingly. "I knew it!" he suddenly shouted. "I have to go in there. Nytris bring the ship up to broadcast speed. Tank, hook me up!" Neo began ordering instantly. With that, the entire ship moved at lighting speed. When one of the captains on this ship said jump, the crew had no further response than yes sir!   
Morpheus, being the Captain equal in command to Neo, turned to where he was setting up the station for his entry. "Are you going to need any help? You know she will be afraid, just as you were," he offered.  
"No," Neo returned anxiously, "It'd be better if you could help the others keep me updated. But thank you."  
"Of course, I just want her to come home safely, as I know you do too." Morpheus said, a glimmer in his eyes. He knew how difficult it could be to change a built in mind, but there was no one out there like her, and they all knew it. She didn't follow the rules but wouldn't dare be caught breaking them. She was just what they needed. Neo stepped back from Morpheus to look at a towering man behind him. "Let's go Scalper," Neo commanded, his eyes like fiery darts, "We have very little time on our hands."  
The tall, stern man gave a nod down to Neo. They both walked briskly and in one fluid bound landed in the chairs. Neo was the first to lay his head back, and then Scalper reluctantly followed him. Even though he looked like a titanium wall, the man did have some feeling. It showed by his lack of willingness to indulge himself with the pain of the steel needle in the nape of his skull. Even once he consented to be plugged in, the cringe through his every bone was as evident as the danger in the situation the Nebuchadnezzer crew now faced. Yet, to ward of the demons, Scalper knew this was something he would have to get used to…eventually. 


	2. Into the Matrix

Chapter Two: Into the Matrix  
  
I stood, waiting for the elevator, looking nervously over my shoulder every so often. This hall was definitely one of the last places I wanted to be at the moment, but I figured it was better than the ridged outside air. At least in the apartment hall I wouldn't catch hypothermia. I un-cocked the gun I had pointed down the hall and shoved it into the belt of my shiny black pants. It would be safe there until or if I needed it. Leaning over, I punched the elevator button, aggravated. I was almost sure it had finally broken for the last time, when I heard the sickening beep that signaled the elevator's laggard approach to my level. Feeling suddenly light headed and weak, I decided to slip down onto the floor for a moment's rest. Then, suddenly realizing why I was feeling ill, I clamped a hand on my stomach.   
"Perfect timing," I cursed the cramp I was developing. Then, instantly hushing my voice I heard a rustle from the back-most apartment. Glancing about in a paranoid manner, the relatively familiar feeling of being stalked, or watched, or hunted returned in a tidal wave motion. The rustling at the back of the complex grew louder by the second, as I decided it best to raise to my feet in a sluggish movement. I squinted my eyes to see down the dimly lit hall to Apartment H21.   
"Strange?" I studied. "No one has lived there since Mr. Macy died." I couldn't help but feel frightened and apprehensive. With the odd events the evening had rolled out so far, I was in no position to rule out any possibilities of a terrorizing turn of events. Just as I was choosing whether I should go and investigate, the elevator binged behind me. I nearly jumped two feet off the ground while managing to awkwardly spin around. In the process I ran smack into the opening elevator door. Pressing my right hand firmly to the spot I have just slammed into the sharp metal corner, I lunged inside. There was no telling who or what was in the back apartment, but I had swiftly chosen that I was not going to stick around to find out. If it had anything to do with the contact I had received today I was sure it would be a bad visit. After stumbling in, trying to push the fear from my mind, I leaned my back against the mirrored walls of the elevator and slammed my hand toward the control panel. I was aiming for the 1st level, but with my eyes still blurry from my run-in with the door, I hit the basement level.  
"Just my luck!" I muttered before turning to curse the blood now running from my head. With this rickety old elevator, I didn't dare hit more than one button at a time. A man had done that once and ended up being locked in the shaft for a whole day. Since time was exactly scheduled into my plans, I decided I would just catch the stairs up to the lobby level and run like hell when I got there. I knew the stairs up from the basement would lead me back into the complex, but I had no other options. The only other way out of the tiny basement was through a minute window about 9 feet off the ground. Since I was in no way prepared for such a task, I decided it best to take my chances in the lobby.  
"Besides," I rationalized, fear still taking the upper level in my voice, "should anything go wrong I still have this," I patted the gun buried in the belt of my shiny ebony pants.   
Upon arrival at the basement, I practically pried the doors open with my bare hands. It was something I had grown accustom to, so it was no major feat. Stepping out of the poorly lit elevator, I entered into an even poorer lit basement. Boxes of anonymous junk were scattered like fleas across every inch of maneuverable floorboard. Where there wasn't a box, there was a missing floorboard or some other novelty items strewn loosely about. A busted street light hummed on and off eerily, shedding periodic light in through the grotesquely blackened window. Standing immobile for a moment to allow my growing night-blind eyes to adjust, I made note of a large table in my path toward the stairs.   
The floor creaked with a sense of warning and doom as I inched my way through the maze of storage piled at least 3 feet above my height. As I finally reached forward to grip the bedraggled metal railing adjoining the incurved stairs, I prayed with all the energy left in me that whoever had chosen to pursue me would not also choose to appear at the apex of my only way free.   
Slowly and with great effort to cause the least sound possible in my situation, I ascended the stairs. About the mid-point of my climb, I paused. Suddenly remembering my appointment with Neo. Instantly rage filled my entire being. Whoever this stalker was had better not keep me from meeting Neo; he was my only way to find the answers I had been seeking for so many years. Being the pessimist that I am, I shook my head; wasn't going to happen, not to me, not anytime soon. Then, looking back to the door that led out to my temporary freedom, I pushed those thoughts aside. For the moment all that mattered, all that was important, was my survival. If I didn't survive, I would surely never meet Neo!  
After what seemed an eternity, I finally reached the ominous door. Before stepping over yet another box to lug open the door, I checked my belt; still there. I decided it would be best to pull it out and cock it just in case. Just as I was in the process of doing so, another cramp shot up through my abdomen, the pain growing this time. I smothered an agonizing yelp and dropped myself to my knees. Then, regaining my sense of strength, I raised myself with a groan.   
"These things always come at the wrong time," I seethed between my teeth. Not like it was going to help my mood along anyways. I shook myself reminding me of the situation I was finding myself in. Rechecking my cocked gun and covering my plan of attack and defer over in my mind, I slowly nudged the door. It gave nothing but a loud squeal. Then, throwing my entire weight against it, it finally slumped open. Once open, I raced through it and stopped behind a counter. Looking at all my exit routes, I soon saw a side door nearest me open. I dashed for it, but before I was little over halfway, the ill-sounding Bing of the elevator sounded through my entire body. This could only mean one thing, my attacker had caught wind of me high-tailing it out of the complex and soon followed suite; a little too soon for comfort on my behalf.   
I whirled around, considering firing the assault weapon I was carrying, but knowing that would draw more attention that it would help, I shoved it back into my belt. Once outside and in the open I could fire as many shots as I desired and not a soul would stir - this being the extremely low, seedy portion of the city. As I swiftly flung myself through the thin doorway and out into the icy cold for the second time this evening or rather morning, I heard a voice - a man's voice - behind me. I supposed it was none other than the stark-raving lunatic who had decided it would be a nice walk in the park to stalk me down as prey.  
"Shit!" the man shouted in a growling tone. I might not have known why this man was so hell-bent on capturing me, but he was and would obviously go to all lengths to accomplish his task. This for me meant the inevitable. I would eventually face him and…may the best man win, as I would most commonly put it.  
I could tell as I continued in my sprint that he had continued to talk, in more soft tones. But, as I widened the distance between us, his voice turned to nothing but a mass of murmurs. I was still running when I realized I needed to stop. But, the adrenaline pumping through my every vein would not allow me to. To be honest, I was scared - scared to death. I had no point of reference, no direction, and no true plan but to run. As I did, my mind spun with thoughts - seeking an explanation. I had never done anything illegal, not that anyone knew I had done. Suddenly, as snow fell around me, I realized tears falling down my chin. I couldn't be completely sure if the tears had come from the sheer cold of the night or if they had come from the panic and dread that boiled deep inside me and was slowly ripping me to shreds. I pushed the thoughts away, ignoring the rapid falling tears. All I knew was I had to keep running. My limbs were beginning to give out and a cramp was now throbbing in the base of my abdomen. Trying to ignore the pain, I kept on running. I ran until I was gagging from exhaustion and the knotted cramp that had caused me to nearly double over.  
But, I was not ready to give up yet. I wanted to run, but every fiber in me was screaming. I looked around, spooked out of my skin. There was nobody in the near vicinity of me but an old trash collector. Seeing him as no serious threat, I slowed to a speed-walk. Then, hitting a patch of ice on the street, my feet slipped from under me. I was suddenly hurled on my back with a cry of utter pain. In the process, my already cut head hit the ground with a thud. Blacking out for a moment, I lay in the ice senseless. When I finally came to, an evil looking man in a deep tan suit stood hovering over me. My eyes widened, stunned. Had I not just outrun this man? The man said nothing, only lowered a beautiful Double Clip Desert Eagle to my head. Though fearing death and complete agony, I could not help but marvel at the unique design of his DC Eagle. The almost hand-crafted precision of each cut in the shiny, obviously new barrel shimmered even in the dim moon's light. It had an almost unreal, freakishly reflective tip. Then, remembering I was about to die, I screamed for help. Losing all hope, I brace myself for the bullet to sink itself into my flesh with the sting of death. I wanted to cry out but seeing as no one was near me, it would be utterly useless; or so I thought.   
Suddenly, as if from the very air itself, a man clad in a full black ensemble with an ebony trench coat swiveling cinematically around his legs appeared behind the evil looking man. I gaped at the sight of this other man, almost releasing a gasp. His onyx hair glinted in the slightest light, even the stars, while his pale face outlined every feature perfectly. He stood, glowering at the CIA Agent-type stalker. His eyes lowered into a defying glare and you could smell the hatred between the two. As the man in black stood, his entire stature and stance flowed with such a commanding sense of power that I could almost feel the vibes pouring off of him. I gazed at him in wonder, fear dripping from every pore in my body. If this man had come to harm me, he would succeed I took no doubt in that. But, then taking another look (thought my eyes technically never left him) I felt as though he did not want harm to come to me, but as often as my instincts are wrong I trusted them no more than the tabloids.   
Then, being pulled from my trans, another slower moving man showed up standing behind the man who shone like a black star. This third man was evidently much taller than either the other two, but he appeared to linger slightly behind the man in the twirling trench coat. Then, the immensely amazing man strode toward us, directing the tall one to follow. This tall man was also clad in black, yet did not look quite as powerful as the other.  
Then suddenly, the tall man came rushing toward me. I had not noticed but the Agent-type man had now turned to the other man, who had me still in a bit of a daze. The tall man, who seemed to glaring at no one in particular lunged at me and making a similar mistake as I had, slipped on the ice. This caused his to shake his head and regain his balance. Then, looking from the tall man, I saw the Agent-type glaring at the other mystery man in the trench coat. This man spoke to the gun-holder, who seemed to almost fear him.   
"White!" He hollered from a few feet away.   
The CIA/IRS guy suddenly moved away, masking a sense of dread I had seen in his stance. "Mr. Anderson," he drawled. The man who was opposing him seemed to cringe. "We finally meet."  
The man called Anderson gave the agent a look of death. "It will be the last time, I promise you that."  
The agent straightened the sleeves on his jacket. "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, Mr. Anderson!" he spit out slowly.  
Mr. Anderson cocked his head to the side, "I don't!"  
After watching the scene unravel for a moment while being pinned to the ground with a reoccurring cramp, I exhaled. Once the cramp was over, I leapt to my feet and planted a swift sidekick in the gut of the man who was only inches from me, still trying to stabilize on the icy street. He flew back in shock and then pushed himself to his feet with a nasty glare in my main direction. Then, pulling the gun from my belt and cocking it in one second flat, I pointed it at the man's head. I turned back for a moment to see what was unraveling between the agent-man and the awesome man in the trench coat. Seeing as things looked well handled, I motioned the tall man to stand with a tilt of the gun I held.  
"Get up!" I demanded firmly. Realizing I was actually about to shoot him dead, he obeyed with a glare I couldn't quite read. Standing, towering over me, I felt at a loss of control. I ordered him to his knees and nodded approvingly when he obeyed with another odd glare. Then, looking behind me the man called out.  
"Neo! We have a bit of a situation here!" he shouted to the man I had been mystified by. I paused and turned on my heels.  
"Neo?" I breathed, now fully traumatized by the night's events. Suddenly, as if I had blinked, Neo was gone. I looked around madly to find where he disappeared to, but found nothing but the man called White shouting in pain. I turned away in horror, then shot a deathly evil enraged glare at the man who had now raised from him knees.  
I reluctantly raised the gun back to his head.   
"I don't care how much taller than me you are, if someone doesn't explain things soon someone is paying for this and it won't be me!" I screamed, my face meeting the height of his chest.   
Then, almost simultaneous with a radical burst of white light, the man leapt at me in a swift almost fluid motion. He flew above my head and came down with a blow to my shoulder blade. I felt somewhat in pain but mostly in shock and horror. When I hit the icy street, the tale was not kind. The sharp ledge of the curb penetrated my left forearm, elbow to wrist. Sitting up with a suppressed scream, I pressed my right hand firmly against my now crimson forearm. In the process the man had also somehow managed to strip the gun from my hand and point it conveniently at my head. I glowered at the man.  
"Does it really look like I'm going to attack you?" I shouted so loud I felt as though my vocal cords would burst. He lowered the gun and backed away. The man I believed was Neo appeared behind him.  
"Where the Hell have you been?" I screamed in a fit of rage, grasping the gaping slice in my arm to keep it from bleeding excessively. Violently shoving the other man aside, Neo knelt down to me and placed a strong yet gentle hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry Dragon," he apologized sincerely. "Do you still want to come with me?"   
I nodded sternly. I had risked my life to find out about the truth and in no way was I giving up now. "Come then, we have to hurry." Neo directed me toward a darker alley.   
I nodded and allowed him to help me off the slick ground. Once found firmly on my feet, I took a good look at the man claimed as Neo. His ardently hazel eyes glinted with a sense of awesome power and gentle tenderness. His raven hair shimmered as we passed multiple lights while his sable trench coat swayed easily in the deep night's frozen air. The garments he wore under the amazing trench coat outlined his every muscle as he walked along beside me. I couldn't help but stare at him. He had such a sense of majesty and wonder that all I could feel at the moment was awe and respect. He tilted his head to look at me, and in that moment I knew this man had to be what I was searching for all those years; this man had the answers I needed; this man was the answer!  



	3. The Call

Chapter Three: The Call  
  
At that point in time, I obviously had no time for extremely probing questions - nor the slightly probing ones - seeing as I was swiftly guided down an imposingly dark alley by Neo and the other violently agitating man. At last we reached what I assumed to be our destination; I froze. Before us was a silent, black '86 Lincoln hardtop that Neo wasted no time in ushering me into. I shot him a strongly apprehensive glance.  
"Neo," I whispered hesitantly.  
"Yes Dragon?" he answered calmly, turning to look at me.  
"What is happening to me right now?" I cried in desperation for answers. I was still gripping my bleeding arm, but that seemed to become the least of my worries.  
He gave me a look that told me he understood what I was going through. "I'm sorry, but there is no time to explain," he assessed urgently. I shuttered at the thought of what was to come next, yet I nodded to Neo as he gently pushed me through the car's suicide door. Once inside, I came to the realization that I was sitting beside a very terrible man. I glared at him with a passionate hatred that he clearly did not understand. For that, I pitied him yet for more potent reasons I resented him. We sat in utter silence as slowly the car began to crawl forward. Ever so slowly, I noticed it gaining speed and wondered why. But, of course my questions were never voiced into the cautious, fragile air in which we waited. Then, the binds of silence broke when Neo spoke.   
"Kill the lights," he directed from the passenger side of the car.  
"Got it," came yet another male's voice. Suddenly the feelings of intimidation hit me like a metal bat. It wasn't that I minded the male population; but a strange male population was an entirely different story. The longer I sat there, the more I felt as if I were a tiny mouse thrown savagely into a hungry lion's den. Panic began to illogically grip my heart after several minutes in the car.   
I exhaled heavily and turned my eyes to gaze out the darkly shaded window. Not much could be seen, but it was evident that we had turned down a narrow alleyway. The sides were inches from the sides of the car - nearly peeling off the paint as we rolled by. Then, finally the car came to a reluctant halt in front of a shoddy, run-down hotel. It was something that reminded me much of my own seedy home.   
Merely seconds after we had stopped, Neo was out of the car and opening my door. He leaned down to look in at me. "Time to go," he confirmed. I stepped out and my assailant soon followed suit. Before I could object he was by my side and gripping my right bicep with what I suppose may have been an effort at gentleness (though by the appearance of him, "gentle" was rarely in his vocabulary). He guided me through two large doors, which gave a sickly lurch as they unwillingly gave way to the man's weight. He made a strong attempt to follow Neo, who dazzled me by moving much faster than I'd thought humanly possible. Then, after we had climbed several flights of stairs (and I was rightfully exhausted), we stood on the top level of the hotel. The man then led me before two seemingly useless doors and rapped on them heavily with his knuckles. After a few moments, Neo emerged from the room and shooed the other man inside. After the man was out of sight behind the double doors Neo faced me, his dazzling eyes appearing nearly black in the ill light.  
"Are you sure you're ready?" he asked compassionately.   
I had to admit to being a bit more than just confused. "For what?"  
"For this," he paused and motioned towards the doors, "for the truth."  
I nodded, finally understanding for the first time that entire night. "It's what I have been seeking, Neo," I answered without hesitation.   
Neo gave me a contented nod. "Just remember," he went on with a knowing smile, "he already knows more that you want him to." He laughed lightly, "But, try not to worry so much."  
I agreed with yet another nod as Neo pushed open both of the doors to reveal a large room. He placed his hand reassuringly on my back and led me into the center of the room where two dull leather chairs sat - seemingly lonely. Between them, a small table crouched low to the ground, holding nothing but a solitary glass of water. The rest of the room was nothing to look at either. The walls seemed as though they may crack and fall at any moment, while wall paper hung miserably in shreds. Where the wall paper had professedly 'bio-degraded', bare yellow wall shone through like a rotting set of molars. Yet again, I made the connection between my apartment and this new place, but I declared it to nobody but my own self. Neo drew my attention back to the event when he motioned toward a man at the far end, his face watching a clock wind down on an opposite mantle. Once he had re-directed my attentions, Neo exited the room and left me alone with the latter man.  
"I would introduce myself," he said, still facing the clock, "but you already know who I am."  
Finally, he turned and faced me. His dark skin seemed to stand out against the sickly, faded colors of the room. Much like Neo had, I thought silently. The man neared the chairs and held his hand out toward them. "Please, sit."  
I warily lowered myself into the icy leather chair. I watched him for a moment, then suddenly felt exceedingly uneasy.   
"Morpheus?" I began quietly, not even sure of what I would say once he answered.  
"Yes," he answered.  
"What am I doing here?" I asked, wondering if he had all the answers. He smiled at me warmly.  
"Only you can answer that question," he replied, his lips in a serious line. A thought for a moment - why was I here? Then, it hit me as Neo's words rose from the back of my mind.  
"I," I paused, then firmly went on, "I want to know the truth for once in my life."   
"I know," he answered, rather bluntly. "You have been searching for me."  
I nodded affirmation, so as not to interrupt whatever he might say next. He gave a slight smile and went on. "And I have been searching for you."  
I was shocked for a moment. Why would such a powerful man be looking for someone like me? Things were suddenly not fitting together as they should. He could obviously see the fear and consternation in my eyes. I leaned closer to the opposite chair where he sat and lowered my voice into a trembling whisper. "Why me?"   
He smiled, that same almost non-existent smile he had just moments before. For some bizarre reason, I almost felt as if I belonged here - but it still made no sense. He read my eyes again.  
"Sometimes," he said nobly, "what is right is not always what is easy."  
He did not wait for a reply, but instead continued to speak to me. "You have been hunting this truth your entire life, and it's driving you insane." He predicted. I was almost stunned - almost. For the strangest reason, I had come to expect Morpheus to know how I felt. It was irrational and illogical of course, but it seemed as if those things were swiftly becoming my reality.  
I stared up into his deeply chocolate eyes and searched them for reassurance. To my amazement, I found it. "What is the Matrix?" I finally managed to get out of my mouth, awe and reverence lacing every syllable. Morpheus nodded in my main direction, his face almost expressionless - almost. He leaned back in the chair at looked at me squarely.  
"Nobody can be told what the Matrix is. You have to be shown." He explained. I shook my head at him, not really understanding why he had brought me here at all.  
"But, what is it?" I asked with hesitation.  
Morpheus looked at me silently for another moment, before pulling a tiny metal box from his pocket. It twisted in his hands for what seemed like hours, then he finally spoke.  
"The Matrix," he began with what could have been remorse - or more so hatred, "is a hoax; an elaborate mind game played with you as the main tool." He leaned closer to me. I was intimidated, but did not bother to move away. Instead, I just sat there twisting the edge of my shirt to keep my nervous hands busy. He continued to turn the box in his fingers and went on.  
"It is there when you sleep and when you wake. It is the streets you walk down and the people you meet. It is whatever is real to you. Emotions, life, death, your friends, and your family are all a part of it. And, there is only one way for this reality to be for you what it is for me - a tightly knit lie."   
When he had finished, he looked at me, watching for a reaction. I was shocked - astounded, and yet somewhat skeptical. Then suddenly, I had the strangest urge to know more - to know the truth.  
"What is this lie, Morpheus?" I asked with curiously scared eyes.  
Morpheus' eyes fell deliberately, almost sorrowfully. Then, he picked up his head to look at me straight on. Finally, he spoke once again.   
"That you are free; that you are here, now. The truth is Dragon, that you are a slave trapped inside your own mind," he stated.   
I gaped at him, in utter shock. "What do I say to something like that?" I breathed, more to myself than anyone else. Morpheus leaned back again, the shiny box still twisting in his hands.  
"You need not say anything at all," he said clearly. "Just understand one thing."  
I sat silently, waiting in anticipation, not really sure if I should answer him or not. He did not say anything, but opened the tiny silver box. In his hand two objects fell, which I could not tell what they were. But, it was apparent that they were blue and red in color. He shifted one each to different palms and finally spoke yet one more time, in that tone that makes one feel unsure if his news is good or heart-breaking.  
"Once you choose, there is no going back." He said clearly. I nodded at that, with somewhat of an attempt to laugh.  
"Point of No Return," I murmured to myself, referring to a title track from my favorite Broadway show. After living in New York for over ten years, I'd seen it at least twice. And, though that wasn't many; on my income it was astounding that I had even seen it once. Morpheus gave me one of those secret smiles.  
Not hearing my comment, he went on. "Everything about your life is going to change, but I can't guarantee that you will appreciate it very much."  
I shrugged, trying to act as casual as possible. "What's the choice?"  
Morpheus put his hands before him, balled up in loose fists. I tried to gaze through his glasses - to read his expression, but it was utterly useless. His lips were a straight line until he spoke. He opened his left hand and the object inside I assumed to be some sort of a pill.  
"You take the blue pill - the show's all over. We both go back wherever we came from, and you believe whatever you wish." He paused to open his other hand. Inside was another pill - identical in fact besides in color. This one was red.  
"You take the red pill - the show goes on, and I show you the line between your reality and mine."  
As I sat there, I felt my jaw about to hit my lap in shock. Could this really be happening to me? The decision before we - was it real? How could it be so? I exhaled sharply, trying to decide what I should say - no, what I should choose. The answer was simple enough, but the question still remained - Was I willing to answer the call?  
  



	4. Down The Path

Chapter Four: Down the Path  
  
After I managed to take in one more deep breath and swallow the lump that was more swiftly forming in my throat, I leaned toward Morpheus' hand. I still wasn't sure what I was exactly doing, or why I was doing it at all. The only thing I knew was that this was by some freak coincidence the right thing for me to do. Yet, even as I was about to take up the red-colored pill into my own hand, none of it made the least bit of sense. Morpheus, who had been watching me, must have seen the mixture of doubt and confusion inside my flitting eyes.  
"Remember," he warned me, "all I can offer you is the truth. It won't be easy; but it will be real."  
I gazed deep into Morpheus' eyes. I could sense there was something he had not yet told me; the same something that would make this other life so uneasy. Although, the calling of my conscience was mush louder than the sense I acquired from the man before me. I thought for one more second. Yes, this was the right thing; this was where I was supposed to be - what I was supposed to be doing. Without the chance to doubt again, I snatched the red pill from Morpheus. I nearly threw the pill down y throat, while managing to gulp down the entire contents of the glass that had sat on the table only a few moments before. After nearly choking out of my haste, I returned my gaze to Morpheus. He rose to his towering height, with a hint of a proud smile on his lips.  
"Follow me," he commanded in a smooth tone. Without further hesitation, I rose from the large chair and followed closely behind Morpheus' spiring height.   
He led me into the small adjoining room, where the rest of his entourage had disappeared into. After setting across the threshold, I was bombarded with the feelings of intimidation once again. The small room was filled with the same strange faces I had encountered before, and I still disliked that fact as much as I had before. But, with a shudder I was somehow able to continue walking. Morpheus walked only a few steps ahead of me now, as I stood feeling somewhat out of place amid all the sounds and sights. Technical equipment I had never heard of flashed with magnificent lights, while other mechanisms buzzed and beeped relentlessly.   
Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, I began to feel nauseous. The entire world felt as if it were flipping over itself time and time again; and even odder was the fact that my strength was being drained from me the longer I stood there - the more breaths I took. As if in slow-motion, I could see Morpheus coming near me. His form took on a sort of fluid movement, and his lips moved painfully slow. I heard little of what he said, but understood nonetheless. I slid myself into the chair that Morpheus had directed me to sit in. My head could have fallen betwixt my legs at that point, or even worse to the floor; but amazingly, I managed to sustain my form within the safety of the chair itself.  
Morpheus, glancing at me a final time as if to check my stability, turned back to the man which I had already developed a strong hatred for. "Scalper," he addressed the dark man, "get us online now."   
The ominously strange man turned from his monitor toward Morpheus. "I'm on it sir. Just one minute and we'll be linked."  
Morpheus gave Scalper a satisfied nod, but before he could direct his attention back to what I was going through, my mind veered off in another direction. 'Scalper!' I scoffed inwardly, 'what an appropriate title!'  
Then suddenly, I was irreverently jerked from my contemplation with myself. The voices behind, in front, all around me dragged me from my inward conversation and caused me to attempt focusing on them. With each second it grew harder to concentrate, to move, to even breath! Yet, I tried almost completely vainly.  
Before me, Morpheus was the first to speak. "trinity, have you found anything yet?" he questioned.  
The answer came from somewhere behind me, although I could not specify where exactly. "Almost there. Neo!" she shouted in a loud voice, most likely directed across the room. "Get tank ready to send the signal."  
A man clad in what appeared to be a shadow itself moved effortlessly about a console before him. This man, now distorted by the strange effect on my vision, was the man known as Neo. From where I sat, I could make out only a few things, but this man was not something I could miss. He stood out, with his wavering trench coat and his hair like liquid ebony; the way his eyes stood out amid the confusion - the delusion - I viewed. He swiveled on his heel toward the direction where Trinity must have stood.   
"I'm on it," he confirmed with what could have been a nod, but by this time everything was so tweaked that I could hardly have recognized my own image if I had seen it. Nonetheless, the interactions of the cluster of strangers surrounding me carried on as if nothing were out of place. All the while, my condition was on the downhill track and moving along quite swiftly. My breath came with a tremor, and I felt as if my entire body was being pieced apart slowly. To my right, I could oddly enough feel the presence of Morpheus. I choked for a moment on my breath, then found my voice once again.  
"What's happening to me!" I cried, in a composition of terror and agony.  
That was when the driver, known by the name of Nytris, spoke up. He took a step into what was my visible sphere and gazed at me with understanding sympathy. "The red pill that you downed back there," he directed my dim attention toward the door I had entered through, "that pill is part of a trace program we have to run on anyone getting out. It's used so we can find your location.  
Hearing this, I felt only more confusion flow over my already scrambled mind. I resorted to chewing on my lower lip, until I decided to gaze back up at him. "What do you mean?" I retorted with somewhat of a mixed-up passion.  
That was the moment when the black shadow of Neo drew nearer me. I felt the pressure of his firm hand placed placidly upon my shoulder. For a moment, I felt as if his shadowy form would disappear before me, as if to confirm the false reality of this entire scene. Yet, he did not vanish but rather spoke.   
"Just try and relax," he almost whispered into my ear. I felt a chill run through my entire system as a sense of dread come over me that I had never felt before. If I had had the strength, I would have shot Neo a sarcastically defiant look. Yet, with all my energy sapped and my heart beating like a sledgehammer inside my quivering chest, I found it nearly impossible to merely move. Nonetheless, I managed to throw my eyes upon the ghostly figure of Neo, my eyes alit with terror and fear - a complete contradiction to the ease I was advised toward.  
Neo smiled warmly down at me, his eyes the pale chocolate brown of a richly fresh fudge. "I know who you feel," he chuckled in an aside to me alone.   
With that, he patted my shoulder in a comforting way, before removing his hand and stepping into the far left corner of the room. I watched him, as best I could, press a cell phone against his ear and mumble a few phrases. Then he melted into the shadow I knew he had been all along. Soon to follow, I felt Morpheus draw near me again. Had he ever left my side? I still cannot confirm that to this day, yet I knew he stood nigh once again at that moment. He did not gesture to me, as Neo had. No, he stood at a slight distance, and began to speak in something of a riddle to me.   
"Have you ever," he began in a rich, wise tone. Just as his words formed in my ears, I noticed a slight distortion in the shadow that his form seemed to cast at my feet. The shadow was only centimeters from the chair in which I was seated, in fact it was so near I could have reached out and touched it. I had, for some unknown reason, not noticed its presence before now. Yet as I did, the outline of the dim shadow morphed into what I could only describe as something alive. Slowly, it began to coil around the floorboards as a snake would slink about. I cannot be sure, as in of many of these events, if Morpheus' words flowed between the beginnings of this incident and when I recognized his voice again. Although once I recognized his tone, I did my utmost to comprehend. And yet, his words seemed distorted, mingled with incomprehensibility, and mixed around with lack-of-reason. I felt somewhere inside of me that surely he must be speaking plain English, and yet what I heard were the sounds of whining electricity, even that of a soft-murmuring heart of a machine.   
Had I had the strength, I would have conveyed an expression of confusion and desperateness, yet every last reserve of energy I possessed seemed to be filtered into my concentration on the unnatural shadow's form. After a few more moments passed, I felt compelled to test the shadow's reality. Surely, this could not be real; no, this was a dream, a nightmare if it was thus - but real it was not. I slowly bent down to touch the ground where the shadow slithered, half expecting myself to awake in a cold sweat, half expecting the shadow to be completely normal. Yet, as I did my finger sunk into the almost mercury surface. In shock, and almost instinctive panic, I pulled my hand back toward my body. To my surprise, the mercury substance remained melted to my hand, almost becoming a part of me altogether. This moment was when I rejoined Morpheus' voice. To my amazement and bafflement, the words formed in the mouths of others suddenly became clear once again; Their volume had faded to a mumble, yet their words were at least something I again recognized.  
"What if you could not escape?" he questioned me. "Would you be able to know your dreams from the world in which you laid asleep for so long? Or would they each become their own reality; merged together by nothing more than your slumbering conscience?" As he finished, Morpheus gave me a quizzical glance. I felt compelled to, but was not able to give an answer to his question. Instead, I returned to the substance now flowing not in the shadow, but down my arm. That was when the voices of Trinity and Neo rose in the back of my mind. I hadn't been listening to them formerly, but suddenly their comments came through to my stumbling mind as a steaming knife would through cold butter.   
"Neo, I have a lock on her," declared Trinity with a triumphant undertone.  
Neo, who to my knowledge, still encompassed himself with his phone, now spoke legibly into it. "Tank," he addressed the listener on the other end of his line, "we need the signal"  
With this new conversation passing among the company, Morpheus stepped back from my side. Thus left alone to my own devices, I now concentrated on the mercury substance. Its touch was of stabbing icicles, that ran across my skin with indefinite precision. With every millimeter of my skin the mercury touched, its deathly chill touched as well. I knew I could not escape the flowing death which mingled into my flesh, as if my flesh were not more a part of myself than the air I breathed daily. Not to mention, the longer I sat idly in the chair, the more of my flesh the liquid metal consumed. Soon, I felt it - the dread that would consume my heart itself, thus leaving me no way of getting out of this fateful death.   
Then, the shadowy figure of Neo became nothing more than a solitary voice, demanding obedience in the darkest corners of the human heart. "Tank, send the signal now!" he commanded.  
With that final command, my senses faded into nothingness and I felt as if I had become a part of the same shadow. Thus, I had a sense my fate was sealed as the mercury flowed into my screaming mouth and down throughout my entire system. As the liquid filtered into my lungs, I felt a fluttering shutter run through every nerve in my body. The last noise I heard in that world was the distortion of my voice; the sick, pale utterance of a once horrified shrill. Then at last, I knew the end had come. Death had won its steak on my life, and soon I would feel the weight of the ground upon my coffin. Yet, as if in defiance of this assumption, life almost instantly flooded back into my veins.   



End file.
